


Bridge

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, First Times, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 00:55:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Blair's plans for beginning their romance gets postponed by a phone call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bridge

## Bridge

by Sarah Saint Ives

* * *

Bridge  
by Sarah Saint Ives 

Their morning had been peaceful. The rain lulled them to a contented state of tranquility as they began their weekend off. It was a perfect Saturday to relax on the couch, watch television and discuss things that had absolutely nothing to do with police work. The ringing phone interjected immediate stress into their weary souls. 

"Why don't you let the answering machine get it, Jim?" Blair suggested, hopefully. It was the first weekend the two of them would get to spend alone together in months. He desperately wanted some uninterrupted quality time with his best friend. 

"I can't, Chief. It might be important." 

"It's _always_ important, Jim. Sometimes you have to prioritize." 

"Prioritize. I'll have to remember that word. That's in the dictionary, right?" 

"If it's not, it should be!" Blair whirled away from him, headed for the kitchen as his partner picked up the phone on the third ring. 

"Ellison." 

"Jim," Captain Simon Banks urgent voice made him sigh in regret. "I wouldn't call you on your day off, but this is important." 

"Of course." Jim said humbly, his blue eyes on Blair's back. "It's _always_ important, Simon." 

"Gordon McLaughlin. The name ring a bell?" 

Jim's stress grew tenfold at the mention of the criminal's name. "Yeah. Drugs, murder, rape, robbery. The crimes he _didn't_ commit would be easier to list." 

"Yeah, that's the one. He stood trial for another major crime last week and they're transferring him from the local jail back to the state pen. The warden requested that you ride along for extra security." 

Jim sighed again, met Blair's questioning eyes as he turned to face him. "How long would that take?" he asked. 

"Probably four or five hours at the most. It's only seventy five miles round trip." 

Jim nodded, resigned. "Okay, Simon. When do they need me there?" 

"They're moving him out at noon." 

A glance at his watch told him he had an hour. "I'll be there." 

"Jim, how about you take off Monday, you know, to make up for having your Saturday interrupted?" 

"Thanks, Simon. That would be great." Setting the phone down, Jim gazed at his partner a moment. 

"So, you're going." In the kitchen area, Blair had stood by the cooking island but had accomplished nothing there except to make his objection clear. 

With a lame shrug, Jim attempted to lighten the mood with amiable humor. "You knew I was a cop when you married me, Sugar." 

Blair was not amused. 

Jim suppressed a groan. "I'm sorry. I have to transport a prisoner to the state pen." 

"When?" 

"I have to leave now. I'll be back by five. When I get home, we can go out if you want to. Wherever you want to go." Jim approached him slowly and took him by the upper arms. His sky blue eyes were gently pleading for tolerance. 

"I don't want to go _out_ , Jim. I just wanted to spend some time with you." 

"Simon said we could have Monday off, too, so when I get home, we'll unplug the phone and we'll do whatever you want to do, okay?" 

Blair smiled. " _Anything_ I want to do? You promise?" 

"Anything." Jim answered positively. "I promise." 

Blair tiptoed and hugged his neck. "If you knew what I _really_ want to do, you'd never make a promise like that." he murmured. 

Jim squeezed him tightly and nuzzled his ear. "I _might_." he returned. "Don't rule out any possibility, babe. I'm pretty sure we both feel the same way." 

Blair drew back and stared at him. "Can we talk about this?" 

With another glance at his watch, Jim shook his head. "Not now. When I get back." 

"You promise? Promise me we'll talk about this." 

"I promise." Jim patted his cheek. "I have to go, now." 

Blair held on for a confirmation. "Five o'clock, right?" 

"Five o'clock. Maybe sooner." Jim said firmly. He smiled affectionately at him and gently pulled away. Getting his badge, gun and all other police accessories, he winked at his partner as he made his exit. 

* * *

Blair settled down on the couch when he was gone, trying to will away his excitement and a strange sense of doom. He wished he could chase after Jim, scream and cry, throw a tantrum, demand that he stay--whatever it took to keep him from leaving, but reason made him sit still. He couldn't lose control of his adult conduct, especially not today. Jim's promise meant too much to him. 

The heavy heart was probably just his disappointment. Waiting until five o'clock shouldn't be a problem. After all, he had been not-so-secretly in love with Jim Ellison for over four years. A few more hours shouldn't matter that much. 

Jim's reaction when he had candidly hinted at his feelings had made him gloriously happy. Four unrequited years had gone by and they still had not spoken of the enormous attraction between them. Sparks flew every time they touched. Their eyes gentled, their voices softened and their hearts melted every time they came in contact. It was obviously mutual, but somehow, it had been disregarded. 

Blair felt comtemplative, needed to rid himself of the ominous darkness that threatened his psyche. He leaned back and closed his eyes, set a pattern of slow, deep breathing that would hopefully relieve his anxiety. It did not work. He sat straight again and changed the channel on the tv, hoping that watching a sitcom with a laugh track would get his mind off the burden. Instead, it only prompted a recall of past scenes spent alone with Jim. 

Blair wondered at his own motives. He had first been attracted to Jim purely because of his uniqueness; because he was a sentinel and because Blair was an anthropologist. Because his field of study had been all _about_ sentinels. As far as he knew, he was the only anthropologist in the world who had chosen that particular study, so Jim had been his 'holy grail'. The fact that his sentinel was extremely well-built and devastatingly handsome had nothing to do with it--at least, not at first. Then, Blair began to notice those things, along with the fact that Jim, although he had the capacity to be the caveman most people seemed to think he was, was a gentle, thoughtful, highly intelligent man. He cared deeply. He listened to every word. Usually. 

Oh, there were occasions when Blair had found his feelings hurt because Jim hadn't listened, or because he had been grumpy, but most of the time, he was the most considerate, civil person Blair had ever met. 

Blair couldn't guess why Jim loved him so much, but he was certain it was because he had worked his ass off to be close to him. He had dedicated himself to Jim's service, to his needs. It went way deeper than that, but that was the summary. Blair had become his guide, had been given the title of shaman, had become Jim's best friend, ride-along partner, and as soon as the academy training was complete, he would be his police partner. And if things worked out the way he hoped, their relationship would approach the ultimate level today at five o'clock when Jim returned. The promise glowed. 

"It's finally going to happen!" he said aloud, squashing the impulse to jump and shout for joy. He spread himself out on the couch, stretched luxuriously, and let out an irrepressible giggle. It was real. Jim loved him. 

It was a crazy life. 

* * *

Four months ago, right here on this couch, they had discussed Blair's failed dissertation and the prospect of the police academy. 

//They sat side by side, neither paying attention to the movie that played on television. Jim laid a hand on his knee and smiled at him when he looked up. "You look great, Chief. I like the hair cut. Really." 

Blair's hand wafted up to touch his shorter curls. It was still not regulation, still too long according to his instructor, but he no longer sported the 'hippie' look. "My head feels about twenty pounds lighter." he said with a nervous giggle. 

Jim's hand moved to the other side of his head and gave it a brief caress. "You look younger." 

"That's all I need. Everybody already calls me 'Kid', and I'm 31 years old!" 

"You want me to stop calling you 'Kid'?" 

"No, I kinda like it when it's you." 

"How about 'Chief'? Do you mind that?" 

"No, of course not. I like that, too." Blair found himself displaying a moment of shyness, which was totally out of his character. "Jim..." 

Jim waited patiently, very close to him. His hands moved to Blair's shoulders, then slid to his back, placing him in an unassuming circle of his arms. 

"You use a lot of nicknames for people, me especially, and I just wondered..." 

"Just wondered what, Blair?" 

"Would you like me to give you one?" 

"What would you like to call me?" Jim was amused. 

"Oh, I don't know. _Stud_ comes to mind. Maybe Beefcake." Blair grinned teasingly. 

Jim laughed. "Sure, if you want to call me Beefcake at work, feel free. Just be prepared for the curious looks." 

Blair lingered in the comfort of his loose embrace. "I like your name. It's the best name in the world. Jim." 

Jim leaned closer, almost kissably close. "Did you cut off your hair because you thought it was what I wanted, Blair?" 

They were too close. Blair knew he would sense a lie. Leaning into his shoulder, he nodded. "It's what I wanted, too." he said. 

"Really?" 

"Yeah. I like it this way." 

"You can let it grow back if you want." 

"Is that what you want me to do?" 

"I want you to do what _you_ want to do." 

Blair laughed. "It's not important, Jim. The length of my hair has nothing to do with who I am." 

Jim bounced to his feet and went to the kitchen, leaving Blair needing more. "You want a beer?" 

Blair sat straight and put on an untroubled face although his foolish heart was pounding. "Yeah, sure. I could use one right now."// 

* * *

The weeks had gone by so fast it was mind-numbing. Another scene came to memory, a night coming home from work in the pouring rain. 

//Blair had noticed Jim's desolation all day. He had been quiet--too quiet. Jim wasn't usually a chatterbox, but he wasn't prone to long periods of silence, either, unless he was in a state of zoning. This time, it wasn't a zone. Blair wanted to know what was on his mind. 

Lightning struck the ground to their right. In alarm, Blair took off his seatbelt and scooted to the center of the seat, latching onto Jim's arm. Without hesitation, Jim lifted the arm and wrapped it around his partner. It was so easy between them sometimes, that it was difficult to understand what caused the problem. Blair cuddled in the safety of his presence, knowing that the danger was just as real as it had been two feet to his right. It was nonsensical, but he didn't care. Jim was willing to be his protector, so Blair was going to sit right there in his embrace until they got home. 

That ride home was done in silence, but it was comforting silence. Even a heartfelt conversation could not have inspired the same sense of sweet togetherness. Blair was glad Jim loved him, even if it wasn't the kind of love he secretly wanted from him. What they had was special.// 

* * *

Their relationship was not only important; it was vital to them both. Blair knew it and he knew Jim knew it. Strong, unbreakable elements made up the structure of their co-dependency. What they had would last forever. 

"Forever." Saying the word aloud made Blair's full lips tremble. He let a sob escape as he muttered, "Oh, god, Jim, this is wrong! I can't do this any more." 

* * *

Jim Ellison took his place in the back of the armored wagon, ignoring the leers the chained prisoner shot in his direction. His mind was on getting finished with this annoying project and getting back to the matter closest to his heart. 

Blair. He did not try to analyze it, did not let it intrude upon his formerly resolute heterosexually-inclined sense of pride. Negative thoughts did not enter his mind. All that mattered was that he get back to Blair as soon as possible, that they come to a decision about their lives, their future, their hearts. No other person could make Jim Ellison feel so uninhibited about his life's choices. Only Blair. 

He entertained himself with reflections of Blair as the truck began to move. Mental snapshots of reminiscence brought a fond smile to his face, but a caustic voice rudely interrupted his reverie. 

"What are you smiling about, cop? Don't you realize we're all going to die?" the prisoner barked. 

Jim gave him an arrogant sniff and turned his face to glance out the back vent. They had just left Cascade and were headed for the Iberia Bridge, which stretched across a mile of inland sea-water. 

"You asshole, listen to me!" McLaughlin was growling at him. "Look at me, you dumb fuck! We're going to die! Tell the driver to stop the vehicle!" 

Jim had a sudden premonition that made the short hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Blair's voice came to him as clearly as if he were sitting beside him. "Oh, god, Jim, this is wrong! I can't do this any more." The sound of racking sobs alarmed him. He sat stiffly in his seat, suddenly realizing that the words had come from McLaughlin's mouth, and that he was now laughing at his stunned reaction. 

Jim wanted to bash in his head, but instead, he sat calmly, disgustedly watching the road behind them through the vent. When he glanced at the convict again, the expression on his face had changed to pure terror. His own spirit shuddered with cognition even though his mind was wrapped in a state of total confusion. He was going to die. How and why were irrelevent. When - he knew. Now. Where - he knew. Here. Regret overwhelmed him. 

Blair. He wished he had kissed him goodbye. He wished he had not answered the phone. He would give anything to be in Blair's arms now. The wail that rose in his spiritual being was the panther crying for the its mate, the wolf. "I love you, Blair!" 

He didn't know if the words had been cried aloud or not. He didn't care. 

The bridge exploded and the armored wagon, along with many other vehicles, plunged into the deep water. 

* * *

He was mixing concentrated juice when it hit him like a concrete block dropped on his chest. "I love you, Blair!" Jim's voice was distinct even though it sounded horrified and very like the panther. 

Blair cried out and fell to his knees from the impact, left weak and helpless for a time. "Oh, god, no, no, NO!" he screamed. "Jim!" He couldn't breathe. His lungs felt constricted, too small or too full to allow oxygen in. Dizziness and panic thunderstruck him, then a sense of blackness, of cold. 

What had happened? Long minutes later, when he was able to move again, he crawled to the phone and dialed Jim's cell phone number. Seated on the floor, breathing as if he had run a marathon, he listened to the phone ring until the automatic answering message came on to tell him that the user was busy or the ringer was turned off. With hurried recklessness, he dialed Simon's number. 

The captain answered on the second ring. "Banks." 

"Simon, it's Blair. What happened? Where's Jim? What happened to him?" He was blubbering into the phone, near hysteria, and he had no intention of controlling his emotions. 

"Blair, just calm down!" Simon said loudly. When the anthropologist's breathing slowed a bit, he went on. "Okay, that's better. Now, what's going on? Why are you so upset?" 

"He's dying! He's hurt and dying somewhere!" 

The captain was silent a moment, chilled to the soul. "Sandburg, you sit tight. I'll get back with you as soon as possible, do you hear me?" 

Blair nodded, unable to answer. He began to weep uncontrollably when Simon hung up the phone. 

* * *

On the television, a newsbreaking story was on about a bomb on the Iberia Bridge. Blair turned up the sound and listened to the report of how fifty or more cars had gone into the water when a bomb had crumpled the aging, mile-long bridge. He dialed Simon's number again, and got a busy signal. 

The minutes were like hours. An hour seemed like forever. He had paced so much his feet hurt when the phone rang again. He snatched it up before the first ring was complete. "Simon?" 

"Yeah, Blair, it's me." Simon answered. "You haven't heard from him, have you?" 

"No, of course not. He went down with the bridge! He's in the water, Simon." 

"I don't know how you knew, and I don't think I _want_ to know, but I think you're right. The truck transporting McLaughlin went down with about fifty other cars. Rescue teams are there. They've been pulling people out, some alive, some dead. So far, nobody's seen Jim." 

"Oh, god, Simon. I need to be there." 

"No, you don't need to be there! You need to stay right where you are, just in case he got out somehow and he makes it home. You should be there for him." 

Blair's broken sobs were enough to break the captain's heart. 

Less harshly, Simon said, "Okay, get ready. I'll swing by and pick you up. Okay?" 

"Okay." 

"Blair..." 

"Yeah, Simon?" 

"They're going to find him, you hear me?" 

"Okay." Blair said. 

* * *

Blair left a note on the tv screen that read: Jim, We're going to Iberia to look for you. Call Simon's cell if you come in before I get back. Love, Blair. 

Getting into the silver car, he was immediately scrutinized by the driver. A large, dark hand stretched to carefully wipe away traces of tears from his cheeks. "Thanks, Simon." 

Simon clapped him on the shoulder. "Quit crying, Sandburg. We're going to find him alive and well." 

Blair nodded bravely. "Yes, we are." he agreed. 

* * *

Time went slowly. Blair, restricted to the car and the surrounding area, felt handicapped. Simon had been to the shore to watch a few of the bodies hauled inland. Darkness fell and the anxiety increased. Twenty eight living victims had been rescued and sent to the hospital. Thirty two had been declared dead. 

Simon finally returned to the car, grimly shaking his head. He reached out a hand to comfort his younger friend, not surprised when Blair stepped beneath the extended arm for more effective comfort. Closing the arm around him, the captain spoke into his curls. "Don't give up hope, Blair. You know how tough he is. He's come through worse than this." 

"I know." Blair clung to him. 

"I'm going to take you back to your place, now, and if you want, I'll stay with you a while. If he shows up, they'll give us a call." 

A cop's voice gained Simon's attention. "We found a body that fits Ellison's description!" 

Blair looked up at the much taller black man holding him and whispered the key word in trepidation. "The _body_?" 

Simon paused before he asked the cop, "Dead or alive?" 

"Dead, sir." 

Blair made a sudden, unexpected break from him and ran toward the water. Rescue workers were zipping up a body bag. Simon ran after him, calling, "Blair, get back here! What the hell are you doing?" 

He ran headlong into the gathering of people around the body and dropped to his knees beside it. Bending close, he tried to see the face in the dark. "Somebody shine a light on his face!" he ordered frantically. 

A flashlight came on automatically, and Jim's face was visible to him. "Oh, god! Jim!" Blair leaned to hug him, mortified by the smell of death. Cold and still, there was only one conclusion, but Blair would not accept it. He forced the quiet lips apart and pressed his own against them, blowing into his lungs. "Breathe, Jim! Come on, man, breathe!" 

A voice behind him spoke to Simon. "He's wasting his time, sir. This guy's been dead for a while. Rigor mortis is already setting in." 

Simon's hand on his arm made Blair all the more determined. He turned long enough to push him away. "No! I can bring him back just like he brought me back! We're connected, remember? Remember the fountain?" Pressing his forehead against Jim's, he abandoned any form of emergency resuscitation and delved straight into the powers of the unknown. With closed eyes, he began to rub the wet head, the neck, the shoulders and the arms. 

The circle of people around them watched dismally, shaking their heads at each other, but no one attempted to remove him from his dead friend. Doubtful but hopeful, Simon waited in patient agony to pick up the pieces when it was over. 

Blair's path through the jungle was cloudy. He found his spirit animal, the wolf, lounging at the edge of a pool. The black panther laid lifeless beside him. "Make him wake up." Blair begged, and the wolf sniffed the bigger animal, whining. "Make him wake up. I need him." 

The wolf stepped over the big cat, looked up at the visionary and spoke without uttering a word. "There has to be sacrifice." 

"Anything!" Blair said. "What do I have to do?" 

"You have sacrificed one vocation for him. Now sacrifice another." 

"I can't be with him? I can't be a cop?" 

"He will leave, too. Both of you will go." 

In confusion, Blair nodded fast agreement. "Okay! Whatever it takes! I won't be a cop. I'll talk him into quitting, too. Just give him back to me, please!" 

The wolf straddled and lowered himself onto the cat and the two spirits metamorphosed together. 

Blair's mouth found Jim's and he kissed him. 

"Oh, shit, I can't stand it." The words came from one of the bystanders, and hands caught Blair's arms to pull him away. "Come on, son. Let's go." 

"No!" Blair objected vehemently. Single-mindedly, he went back to the kiss. Cold, dead lips softened beneath his own. Gradually, they parted and became animate, molding, melting into the kiss. Responding. 

The night was suddenly filled with amazed comments and reverent curses when Jim's arms raised and wrapped themselves around Blair. 

"Oh, my god! He's alive!" The exclamation came from the man who had tried to pull Blair from the corpse. 

Simon smiled through glistening tears. "Yeah, dammit. Of _course_ he's alive! What did you expect, anyway? These two...they're _connected_!" 

Blair raised up to let Jim breathe and did not object when emergency medical techicians moved in to assist with an oxygen tank. Leaning back in Simon's waiting embrace, he let them carry Jim to the ambulance. 

"You did it, kid!" Simon cheered in his ear. "Come on. Let's follow the ambulance to the emergency room, okay?" 

Exhausted to the point of collapse, Blair nodded. 

* * *

Jim looked very cozy in the hospital bed when Blair and Simon arrived to visit. His eyes warmed as they met Blair's. Reaching out, he gripped his hand, pulled him in for a hug. 

"You were dead, Jim." Blair said softly. 

"Yeah, I know. I was _there_." Jim said. 

"He brought you back the same way you brought him back from the fountain. Favor returned." Simon said, patting Jim's shoulder. 

"Yeah, and he sacrificed both our careers to do it." Jim said, holding him tightly. "We can't be cops any more, Simon. Part of the agreement." 

"What?" Simon was flustered. "What the hell are you talking about, Jim?" 

"He promised our spirit guides we wouldn't be cops any more. It was the only way I could come back." Jim answered simply. 

Simon had seen enough evidence of the spirit world to erase all doubts. Nodding soberly, he said, "If that was the only way it could be, sobeit. I'll give you good references for finding other employment. Both of you." 

"Thanks, Simon." Jim cleared his throat and sat up. "Do you know why the bridge exploded?" 

"Yeah, some terrorists after McLaughlin. They wanted him dead so badly they didn't care who else got hurt or killed." 

Jim sighed. "He knew. Ahead of time, he knew. He told me we were all going to die." 

"Yeah. His body was fished out this morning." Simon said. 

"I didn't expect him to survive." Jim was remembering the ride. "You know something else that happened was that I heard Blair's voice coming from his mouth, and he said something like..."I can't do this any more. Whatever that meant. It was weird." 

Blair shivered. "I _did_ say that." 

"What the hell did it mean, Chief? You can't do _what_ any more?" 

The younger man took a moment before making the confession. "I can't pretend I'm not crazy in love with you any more." 

"Oh." Jim gave him a long, serious gaze that broke into a sparkling smile. "Okay. I was hoping that's what it meant." 

Blair stood straight and beamed at him. "We have a lot to talk about first, remember?" 

"Yeah, a lot. Starting with that miracle kiss you gave me down by the Iberia Bridge." Jim hooked two fingers in his collar and pulled him down for a gentle kiss. "I'd like to do that more often. That was nice." 

Clearing his throat, Simon said, "Maybe not in front of the captain." 

Jim waved off the advisement. "Doesn't matter. You knew." 

"Yeah, I knew." Simon smiled sentimentally. "But I've got things to do, so I'll leave you two alone for now. We'll talk later." 

They were much too involved in their next kiss to watch his departure. 

* * *

"So, how are we going to live?" Jim asked as Blair helped him settle down on the couch. 

Blair kissed him knowingly. "I have a surprise for you." he said. "I was looking through your wallet while you were in the hospital, and guess what?" 

"What?" Jim said in the same tone. 

"I found your Power Ball ticket in there from the QuickShop store. And guess what?" 

Jim stared at him in disbelief. "I didn't _win_?" 

"All the numbers." Blair said. "You won, Jim. Thirty million dollars." 

Jim coughed, strangled and reached to take it as Blair took it out of the wallet again along with the slip that gave the winning numbers. "We're rich?" 

"Well, _you're_ rich." 

Jim sat comparing the numbers, making sure the day was correct, that all the numbers matched, and when he was convinced, he glanced back to Blair in dazed distraction. "If _I'm_ rich, Blair, so are you. What's mine is yours. You know that." 

"Are you sure about that?" 

Jim handed him the ticket. "Take it. It's yours." 

Blair bent to kiss him again and found himself in a passionate tumble. He giggled as they rolled and kissed, his arms tightly around the bigger man's torso. "I love you." he murmured. 

"I love you, too, babe." Jim said, rubbing noses with him. "And I always will." 

As they kissed again, the lottery ticket crumpled between them. Jim lifted himself up to retrieve it, showing his love that it was partially ripped. He laughed. "I hope we have some tape." he said. 

Taking it from him, Blair laid it carelessly on the coffee table. "Forget that for now. We have more important things to attend to." 

He pulled him down for long, passionate kisses. 

End 


End file.
